Transfigured Hearts 16: Meet the Parents
by MrsTater
Summary: Meeting Ted and Andromeda Tonks for the first time in St. Mungo's is harrowing but for once in his life, approval is not the foremost concern on Remus' mind. All that matters is being at her side when she awakens. Will the Tonkses stand in his way?


_This story follows **Parting Gifts** in the **Transfigured Hearts** series, and is set in June of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix._

* * *

**Meet the Parents**

Early morning light filtered wanly through low, thick clouds, obscuring the street scene with a haze. Indistinguishable forms of people sped down the pavement to indistinct buildings. They walked with heads down, hands shoved into pockets or clutching paper cups of coffee, their paths so practiced that Remus Lupin thought they almost seemed almost under _Imperius_. When they arrived at their destinations, would they remember how they'd got there?

He himself was unsure how he had come to sit beside a bed in the Spell Damage ward of St. Mungo's Hospital. Of course he remembered the battle in the Department of Mysteries, but the actual duels he had fought were more vague impressions than vivid recollections. Tonks falling, Sirius falling had the quality of a nightmare.

The only clear thing was that Tonks had not stirred since she was hexed. Though Madam Pomfrey and the St. Mungo's Healers asserted she would regain consciousness and make a full recovery, it was no less disconcerting to Remus to see the normally energetic Auror so perfectly _still_. Never before had her hand had been unresponsive in his.

Gaze drifting again to the window, Remus reflected that Tonks should be among those commuters, a blur of pink rushing to be on time to work at the Ministry of Magic. If only he had provided cover from Bellatrix…It seemed as though the duties assigned to him always forced personal sacrifice. Of course Harry's protection was top priority, or they were all lost, and it was not as if Tonks, a trained Auror and skilled duellist in her own right, _needed_ protection. That was what he'd told himself at the time, as he quickly buried emotion in order to continue doing what he must. Duty was his habit, the memorised path at the end of which he looked back and asked how on earth he'd come to this place, and what could he have done to change the lonely, miserable outcome.

"Ted and Andromeda're on the way," came the gruff voice of Mad-Eye Moody as he clomped around the curtain partitioning Tonks' bed from the rest of the ward. He walked more heavily than usual due to the limp he'd acquired during the fight, but even that noise did not rouse Tonks. Dropping heavily into the chair next to Remus, Mad-Eye added, "Don't mention Sirius or Bellatrix."

While at some point Remus had registered that Sirius was killed by his own cousin, he had not, for some reason, extended the family connection to Tonks. She was so distanced from her relatives, had never met Sirius prior to joining the Order, that apart from Sirius' occasional references to her as a cousin, it was easy to forget Tonks was a Black at all. But Bellatrix Lestrange _was_ her aunt – her mother's sister, who would not acknowledge Andromeda because of her choice of husband.

Hoarsely, Remus said, "Don't mention that Tonks and I are…"

"Up to things in broom closets before and after Order meetings?"

It was not Mad-Eye's slightly accusatory tone that made Remus bristle. It was the reminder of where he had been before St. Mungo's, before the Department of Mysteries: in Sirius' drawing room, his mate harassing them about their sex life in front of Mad-Eye, who had spat tacks as though he were Tonks' father. _Merlin_. Remus' stomach turned over, bile burned his throat; he swallowed hard, but the acrid taste lingered in his mouth. As many times as his world had been turned upside-down, it never ceased to shake Remus to the very core how quickly everything could change.

"You've never met Tonks' parents?" Mad-Eye asked, rather more cordially – or at least, less crossly and with a measure of surprise.

Nauseating as _that _thought was, the normalcy of the topic brought Remus back to earth and stilled the spinning of his head. "I am not certain," he replied, "if she has told them she is involved with anyone."

Tonks had never mentioned it, and Remus had never asked. There was no point, as long as it was avoidable, in adding parental disapproval to the issues stacked against them. Assuming, of course, they ever reached the level of bringing family into it at all. The Tonkses' impending arrival to see their injured daughter was certainly was not the time.

"Sounds like Tonks," said Mad-Eye. "Never did want her parents to worry about things out of their hands. Don't think she owled 'em much when she was in training." Looking fondly at Tonks, the retired Auror gave a low _hmph_ that might have been a chuckle. "Brave girl. Sticks by what she knows is right for her."

While it was unlike Mad-Eye to talk of a young woman's love life, least of all analogously, Remus did not miss the roundabout statement of approval. Nor was he unappreciative of it – especially after Mad-Eye's opposite reaction to the bawdy talk at Grimmauld Place. But did approval matter anymore? Nothing could be the same after last night; nothing ever was after nights like that. Tonks herself might be changed from her brush with death.

In his peripheral, Remus saw Mad-Eye raise a hand to cover a yawn. "Didn't Poppy release you to help me bring Tonks here," Remus asked, "under the condition that you go home and _rest_?"

"Like to see Ted and Andromeda first." Moody's non-magical eye was almost lost in the deep furrows of his face as it narrowed in scrutiny. "You could use a few winks yourself, Lupin. You may be the only one without a flesh wound, but you've not come out of this unscathed."

Despite feeling as if he had just endured a violent transformation, Remus was too familiar with the physical affects of loss to be deceived by the weariness that seemed to fill his very marrows. "I could not sleep if I tried," he said with a sigh, and part of him was glad. He wanted to be here to see Tonks' eyes open. His hand tightened around hers as he trained his gaze once again on her porcelain features, so as not to miss the first sign of wakefulness.

Mad-Eye required no effort; silence had only just settled when it was broken by his snores. But the retired Auror was constantly vigilant, even in slumber, and he snapped awake at the staccato tap of shoes against the marble floor. Magical eye rolling back so that only the white showed, he jerked his head at Remus. "Ted and Andromeda."

He clattered to his feet, and reluctantly Remus released Tonks' hand and also rose from his chair. The two wizards moved away from the bedside as the curtains parted to reveal Healer clad in lime green robes.

"Hasn't woken yet?" she asked with a cluck of her tongue as she approached the bed. "Well, this sort of hex doesn't let go easily." She lifted Tonks' limp arm and pressed two fingers to her wrist.

"But she _will_ be all right?" came an anxious female voice, and Remus turned just in time to see Andromeda Tonks sweep around the partition, eyes fixed on her daughter, and catch her foot on the leg of the hospital bed. However much the clumsy movement made him think of Tonks, it was obvious from the way Andromeda deftly reached back for Ted's supporting hand that gracelessness was not a typical attribute. She was frenzied – and for good reason. Their robes were rumpled from the trip by Floo.

"She'll come around soon," said the Healer, releasing Tonks' wrist and smoothing the bedclothes. "Her heartbeat is normal again."

It was the first sign of recovery Tonks had showed, and Remus leaned heavily against the wall as he nearly fainted with relief.

"Nymphadora." Andromeda sank into the chair and clasped Tonks' pale hand. "Mum's here, Nymphadora."

Remus half-expected Tonks' dark eyes to open and narrow on her mother as she admonished her not to call her Nymphadora. In spite of the previous moment's rush of relief, the knots in his stomach tightened when she did not.

"Dad's here, too," said Ted, touching the rise of her knee beneath the bedclothes.

"Can she hear us?" Andromeda looked up, but the Healer had gone.

Barely stopping himself from gasping, Remus sucked in his breath sharply. He had seen photographs in Tonks' flat of her parents, and thus was not surprised by the strong resemblance of her features to her mother's, or to see her large, dark eyes in Ted's face. The pictures had not, however, prepared him to see Sirius' piercing grey eyes in Andromeda's.

"Don't know as she can," said Mad-Eye, limping forward, "but it can't hurt to talk to her."

"Alastor," Andromeda said breathlessly as she noticed him for the first time. She rose and reached across the narrow bed to clasp his weathered hands. "Were you with her when she—?

Mad-Eye nodded grimly.

"What hex?" Andromeda asked, hands falling to her sides. Without waiting for a response, she followed with another question. "What happened?"

Moody grumbled, "Break-in at the ministry."

Andromeda's face paled, contrasting sharply with her silver-streaked (for which Tonks and her inability to behave herself as a child claimed responsibility) black hair. "Death Eaters?"

Mad-Eye grunted by way of reply, and Andromeda's gaze became steely as she pursed her lips tightly. Remus knew what question Andromeda was turning over in her mind: had her sister had been involved? Tonks had told him once that her profession worried her parents, and he told her could not imagine a parent _not _being anxious for a child – especially an only child – in her line of work. How much worse must it be for them now that Bellatrix and Andromeda's other notorious relatives had broken out of Azkaban?

Looking at Mad-Eye again, Andromeda asked hopefully, "You're not out of retirement, are you?"

"No."

"Then how were you there?"

Perhaps it was partly because their faces were so similar, but the way Andromeda peppered Mad-Eye with questions reminded Remus of Tonks. He could not help but wonder if curiosity about the larger world beyond the Wizarding community – particularly, beyond the clannish Black family – had played a part in Andromeda's attraction to Muggle-born Ted Tonks.

"Dumbledore got wind," Mad-Eye muttered. "Sent Lupin and me."

Despite never having met Ted and Andromeda before now, Remus saw the flicker of recognition in their eyes as the couple turned to him. Stomach churning, he forced himself to step forward, extend his hand, and smile pleasantly and sympathetically. In a voice that sounded far away and unlike his own, he said, "Remus Lupin. Pleased to meet you."

There was a moment of hesitation as realisation cemented. They knew who he was, _what _he was – as did everyone, thanks to the _Daily Prophet_'s thorough reporting of the incident at Hogwarts, Umbrage's recent anti-werewolf legislation, and Dumbledore's questionable leadership decisions. Remus wished to avert his eyes, but dignity compelled him to face the Tonkses, as much for the sake of the young witch lying unconscious in the bed as for his own.

"Yeah, he's _that_ Remus Lupin," said Moody testily. "Good fellow."

Though Ted's smile was faint and quickly faltered, he gave a firm handshake. "And you're a…friend…of Nymphadora's?"

"Yes." Remus drew out the word, discovering it was strange, indeed, to end his description of his relationship with Tonks at "friend."

Ted smiled again, and Andromeda glanced sidelong at him.

"Tonks is a brilliant Auror," Remus said softly, unable to keep his eyes from drifting to the bed as he offered his hand to her mother, "and a wonderful person."

Andromeda pressed his hand tentatively. "We certainly think so."

"She is a credit to you both."

Her eyes met Remus'. "Thank you."

"Not sure we'd much to do with it," Ted said, casting Remus an appreciative glance as he gently pressed his wife back into her chair, then resumed his. "Nymphadora's her own person."

Remus let out a deep breath he had not realised he'd been holding. He'd met Tonks' parents. They had been polite, if not particularly cordial or warm – and polite was the best reaction he could reasonably hope for, really. Obviously they were curious as to how their daughter came to know a werewolf well enough that he would be at her hospital beside. Obviously were not thrilled about and perhaps a bit suspicious of her choice of acquaintance. On one hand he could hardly begrudge their wariness; on the other, the part of him that longed for acceptance as a normal member of society asserted it was none of their business with whom Tonks chose to associate, even date. She was their child, but she was a grown woman.

"That's her natural hair," Ted's hitched voice broke into Remus' musing. "Was she morphed when…?"

"It was pink," came Remus' choked reply as he realised he did not recall the moment Tonks had lost her morph. Had it occurred instantaneously upon being hexed? Or was it the result of slipping into deep, prolonged unconsciousness?

Ted blinked hard and shared a look of worry and fear with his wife as seriousness of Tonks' in juries sank in. But Andromeda took his hand firmly asked wryly, "She's still in the pink phase?"

Remus merely nodded, though he mentally added that Tonks had not varied her hair colour much since he'd told her he liked pink on her.

"Well," said Mad-Eye as he sidled awkwardly around the bed, "I'd best be getting some shut-eye, or the Healers'll have my hide."

Beneath Andromeda's knit brows, her grey eyes clouded in concern as she regarded him. "Were you hurt, too?"

"All were," Mad-Eye replied with a jerk of his thumb, "except for Lupin."

The air in the room grew a little thicker, and Remus fixed his eyes on his battered shoes so as not to see suspicious looks.

"Bloody Umbridge laws," Mad-Eye continued. "He'd make a damn good Auror. Constantly vigilant, that one. Lupin, when she wakes, tell her I'll see her first thing."

Remus' eyes followed Mad-Eye out the door, then drifted to the window beyond which the pavement had grown even more congested with people bound for work, and the Muggle cars and buses whizzed by. He had no place out there, but he felt utterly out of his element here, either, with these people who no doubt were appalled that a werewolf would loiter about and impose on their private time with their injured daughter.

Ted's voice broke the silence. "How'd you and Nymphadora meet, then?"

"Through Alastor," Remus answered. When Andromeda's brows arched, he went on, "Tonks and I were at…a party…Alastor introduced us."

It was not _precisely_ a lie. By recruiting Tonks for the Order, Mad-Eye _had_, in a way, been responsible for Remus meeting her. The unbelievable part was the bit about a werewolf being invited to the same social events attended by Aurors. If circumstances had not been what they were, Remus would have laughed at the absurdity of it.

But the Tonkses seemed to accept the explanation. Perhaps Mad-Eye's approval _did _matter.

Turning to her daughter again, absently stroking her hand, Andromeda said, "I'll never understand why she won't go by Nymphadora. It's such a lovely name."

Remus smothered a smile as the thought flitted through his mind that lately Tonks had grown more lenient with _him_. She seemed perfectly pleased to hear her Christian name uttered in intimate tones. She had even joked about it earlier, when—Oh God, it was only hours ago that they were trying to beat Sirius at his own game of prying into their sex life? Sirius had quipped about the impossibility of pronouncing such a name in a passionate moment. Would they really _never_ hear such jokes again? Remus would gladly endure any mortification if only…

Suddenly aware that the Tonkses were regarding him quizzically, Remus shook off the bout of despair. Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, he said in an incongruously light tone, "She's threatened everyone she knows with bat-bogey hexes if they call her Nymphadora."

"She did that when she was at school," said Ted with a soft chuckle and wistful look.

Remus felt as though he were intruding on them by knowing Tonks as he did, by gazing at her with equal longing to see her wake and be well. "Is there anything I can do for either of you?" he asked abruptly. "Can I get you tea or coffee or anything to eat?"

"That's very kind," said Andromeda with sincerity, "but we were having breakfast when Alastor contacted us."

A sinking feeling made Remus' shoulders sag as he nodded. He'd made the offer as much to quit the room for just a moment as to try and endear himself to Tonks' parents. He seemed to have done neither.

"Can _you_ tell us how it happened?" Andromeda asked.

The last thing Remus wanted to picture was Tonks falling – and Sirius falling. Drawing a deep breath, he said slowly, "When the hex hit her, she fell and hit her head."

As his gaze was drawn across Tonks' hospital bed to her parents' imploring eyes, he realised that even though he saw everything clearly in his mind's eye, they had only the sketchiest notion of what had happened to her.

Apologetically, he said, "That was not what you wanted to know."

Ted shook his head and clutched Andromeda's hand.

"I'm sorry." Remus regarded his battered shoes as he shifted his weight. "It must be frustrating to have such secretive circumstances surrounding your daughter's life."

"She's always been an independent little thing," Ted said. "We hardly heard from her when she was at school, did we Andromeda?"

"Mostly only when she'd misbehaved." Andromeda affected a smile. "She did write to tell she'd applied for the Auror program."

"A bit of a surprise considering she seemed to prefer making trouble to stopping it."

They all laughed softly, mechanically at the story that, under happier circumstances, would have been charming. The ensuing silence was loud.

"We thought it was too dangerous," said Andromeda in a way that clearly revealed her opinion had not changed. She added, as though to reassure herself, "But it was her decision of course. We're very proud of her."

"She looks so small, doesn't she?" said Ted hoarsely. "Like our little girl who couldn't walk through an empty room without falling over her own feet. She can't really have the same job that cost Alastor Moody…"

"Don't," Andromeda interrupted, forcefully even though her voice was barely above a whisper. "It's an important job, and Nymphadora's very good at it."

Remus moved away from the bed, leaving Ted and Andromeda to cope as they surely had done before, though never in the midst of such a scare as this. As he paced the length of the small partitioned room, he considered the Tonkses' protectiveness of their only child – and their respect for her. Though Remus knew that accepting a daughter's prestigious but dangerous career choice was an entirely different matter than supporting her relationship with a Dark Creature, he could not help but feel a little encouraged. They trusted Tonks. They did not interfere choices that were hers alone to make.

"Remus?" rasped a small voice.

Whipping back to the bed, Remus' heart leapt to see Tonks' dark eyes peering at him from beneath drooping lids. Buoyed with a sudden surge of energy, he rushed to her, hardly registering that Ted had run out into the main ward, calling for a Healer, or the look of surprise Andromeda's face. Was surprised Tonks asked for him first? Or had his eagerness revealed the nature of their relationship? He did not care. Tonks was awake and reaching for his hand. Later he could worry about what her parents thought. For now, all that mattered was that this one thing had not changed, not yet. Tonks needed him. He laced his fingers through hers as he sat on the edge of her bed.

"Where're y'going?" Tonks slurred, her forehead crinkled in confusion.

"Nowhere." Remus swallowed painfully. She must have seen him pacing away and thought she was leaving. With his free hand, he reached up to brush the hair back from her heart-shaped face, which was suddenly distorted by unexpected tears in his eyes.

Merlin. Tonks might have gone away forever – and he could not have borne it.

He lifted their twined hands to his mouth and kissed each of her knuckles. "Thank _you_ for not leaving."

"Yes, Nymphadora." Andromeda cleared her throat. "You gave us quite a scare."

The furrow in Tonks' brow deepened, and with some effort – and a measure of pain, as indicated by her wince – she turned her head and squinted. "Mum?"

"And your old dad, too." Ted returned, misty-eyed, and dropped a kiss on his daughter's forehead. "Thought we'd pay Auror Tonks a surprise visit."

"Didn' have to," Tonks slurred.

Andromeda rolled her eyes, and Ted looked at his wife with a here-we-go-again expression. "All those hair colours and faces," he said, "but Nymphadora never changes, does she?"

He grinned affectionately, and Tonks returned her father's smile weakly. "No. S'always a wretched name."

Ignoring another eye roll from her mother, Tonks turned back to Remus with a look that might have been apologetic; it was hard to tell, because her eyes were bleary and her features were drawn. "Now you've met m'parents."

"Yes," he replied, drawing out the word as he cast about for the best way to steer this conversation in another direction. "Mad-Eye sent for them."

"Alastor speaks highly of Mr. Lupin," said Andromeda.

Tonks' eyes widened a bit, and Remus thought of his own reaction to Mad-Eye's uncharacteristic support. Was her mind clear enough that her thoughts, like his had, turned to Mad-Eye's part in the talk before the battle?

"Remus' m'boyfriend," said Tonks. "Don' call him mister."

"Well," Andromeda fumbled, "I—"

"Lovely to see you awake, Miss Tonks," came the Healer's voice as she swept through the curtains, levitating a tray of potions. "How do you feel?"

"Hurt," said Tonks in a pinched voice. "Everywhere."

Remus absently caressed her hand with his thumb. "You took a nasty fall."

"Drink these," ordered the Healer, indicating the tray. "One's for your bruises and broken bones, and the other's a sleeping draught."

"Broken?" Tonks repeated, looking almost as though she'd never heard the word.

"Ribs." Remus took one of the bottles and gently tilted her head to help her drink the potion. It was a wonder she had not broken her neck, the way she had tumbled like a rag doll down the stone steps.

Tonks sputtered and wrinkled her nose.

"Nasty potion?" Ted asked with a hint of amusement.

"Bloody awful," said Tonks miserably. "But not—" She gave Remus a knowing look.

"—not as bad as _some _potions," he finished softly, summoning the second one.

When Tonks had drunk, the Healer applied salves to her numerous cuts and bruises checked her bandaged ribs, then, admonishing the visitors to let the patient sleep, left them alone again.

Though by that time the sleeping draught had begun to take affect and Tonks eyelids were drooping, her eyes focused with urgency on Remus. "Did we…?" she asked. "Is…_he_…safe?"

For a split-second, Remus thought she meant Sirius, and he wondered how she could possibly know…Then he gave himself a mental shake and silently chastised himself for being so fixated. Of course she meant Harry.

Remus leant close and whispered, "Yes, Harry's safe."

In his peripheral, Ted and Andromeda exchanged baffled glances. Remus told himself it was because they were in the dark about the circumstances leading to Tonks' injuries, rather than shock and disapproval to see that he was more than friends with their daughter. He was actually relieved for their presence, because it provided an excuse not to discuss the battle with Tonks.

Straightening, Remus said cheerfully, "Mad-Eye said he'll see you later today."

Tonks reached up to touch his cheek and said softly. "You're fuzzy."

A puff of laughter loosened the knot in Remus' chest, and he ran his hand over the day's growth of beard. "Prickly, more like. Shall I go shave?"

"Well," said Ted softly to Andromeda, "you should be glad she seems to prefer clean-cut men now."

Remus' eyes darted to Tonks' parents, and Andromeda quickly masked her tight-lipped expression with a nervous smile.

Tonks apparently saw no humour in the situation; the wrinkle in her forehead deepened as she squinted at him. "Can't see you clearly."

"Ah—" Remus said. "You mean your vision is blurred?"

The pillowcase rustled as Tonks' head moved in the slightest of nods.

"After-effects of the hex," Remus explained, "and the potions."

"Oh." Her expression became vacant, as if she could not quite process or comprehend this information. But just as her fingers slackened and slipped from his face, her eyes dilated, and she grasped at his collar. "Don' leave me, Remus."

He slipped his arms around her. "Of course I won't."

"Don' leave," she repeated, breathing rapidly and raggedly. Her fingers were cold against his neck. "In my dream…He wasn't safe…An' you left."

"Who wasn't safe?" Andromeda asked, while Ted queried, "What's she talking about?"

Remus did not answer. Most likely reality had got mixed up with Tonks' dreams – though he wondered if the hex had the effect of dredging up some of her darker insecurities. His heart constricted at the thought of her being afraid he would leave her. Had he done something to make her believe that? He knew he had not always expressed confidence in the longevity of their relationship, but surely she knew _he _did not expect to be the one to end it. Did some part of her think he wanted out?

Easing her back against the pillow, Remus stroked her hair, her cheek. "Sleep, sweetheart. I'll be right here when you wake."

"So will we," said Andromeda.

"You sleep, too," Tonks said so quietly that Remus had to lean forward to catch her voice.

"Right here," he said.

Tonks dropped to sleep mid-nod, and when her breathing deepened, Remus rose gingerly from the bed. As he summoned a chair from elsewhere in the ward, he glanced out the window and noted one of the figures moving against the tide of commuters. For some reason, Remus wondered if the person were not hurrying to work, but running away. He shook off the thought; he was weary, and Tonks' troubling dreams coloured his perception.

But even as he placed the chair next Tonks' bed and sank wearily onto it, he realised that somehow whenever he suffered a loss, duty always compelled him to leave.

Taking her hand again and offering her parents a reassuring smile, Remus hoped that this time he would be able to stay.

_The End_


End file.
